Aibou
by Eva-sama
Summary: First-person Ryou Bakura angst, as he deals with a particularly brutal beating from his yami. PG-13 for blood and violence. One shot, but please R&R! I'm begging you!


Hello! This is a one shot, my first try at an angst fic, and something I wrote reeeeeally late at night. (Or really early in the morning, whichever) Puh-leaze R&R!

I don't own Ryou, Bakura, Yuugi, Yami, or pretty much anything else in this fic T-T

I groaned, my eyes fluttering open. "Where....." I heard my voice cut off abruptly, hand reaching to feel my chest, to inspect the sharp pain I had felt. I felt something warm and sticky on my fingers and held my hand up to look, expecting to see fresh, deep red blood on my fingers. I blinked a few times, confused, seeing only a pale blackness. "I can't see....." my voice croaked as I remembered, too late, the pain speaking seemed to be causing me. I sat up and felt my chest again, my numb fingers finding a deep gash straight down the center, almost opening up my ribcage. I traced his hand down it, feeling blood pump in new spurts as my fingers touched it. 'What...happened to me? A robber?' I glanced around, worthless, since my vision was still muddy and blank, before realizing. 'Right. It was just Yami again......'  
  
I braced my hand on the couch and hauled myself upright, only to collapse to the floor again as my right knee and ankle gave out underneath me in a burst of pain, sending bright white fireworks in front of my finally- clearing eyes and re-opening all of the wounds that had been scabbing over.  
  
"Can't move, pathetic hikari? Need some help there, aibou?" my yami's sneering voice rang harsh and malicious from the doorway. I looked up to see him in his spirit form, leaning nonchalantly on the doorframe, which was covered in blood, which also splattered the walls, the couch, the carpet, and almost everything in the room.  
  
I looked weakly at my yami, about to pass out from blood loss, and gained a cynical laugh in response. "Can't do it, aibou?" he said that word in a sneer, as he always did. He never called me by my name, using hikari, weakling, stupid mortal, you, or that horrible, sneering, teasing, sarcastic word. Aibou. What I had always wanted him to call me, hoping maybe we could be like Yuugi and his yami; actually be partners. I was foolish. Now he calls me that, his voice dripping with sarcasm, just as his knife drips blood. My blood. Our blood.  
  
I watched him become solid, like mist condensing and becoming a living, breathing human being. He held up his dripping knife and slowly licked the blood off of it. "I'll help you once you beg me too...Until then, I'll be upstairs. Don't call me until you're ready to grovel at me feet, or I'll....well, I'll find some way to punish you." He smirked, showing pointed canine teeth, tips stained red, and disappeared into the shadows behind him. The only light on in the house was the one in the living room, where I was. He must have turned it on so he could see to drive the knife into my flesh. I wasn't afraid of the dark; nothing in the deepest shadows could frighten me as much as he did, with every smirk and off-hand comment he threw my way, my terror grew.  
  
....Just like he wanted?  
  
Just like he wanted.  
  
'I'm just playing into his hand...'  
  
'What am I afraid of?'  
  
Death? No.  
  
Pain? No.  
  
It always puzzled me, but I had never figured it out. Maybe seeing my own face twisted into a malicious sneer, watching my own hands inflict bruise after bruise, cut after cut.  
  
'I'm being destroyed by my own reflection......How ironic.' I laughed, a sound coming guttural and harsh, and, one could say, with a hint of madness, accompanied by a deep burbling from my throat as the blood bubbled from my gash.  
  
I bent my left knee, since that leg seemed to be working, and used it to push myself towards the bathroom, where I could try to wash some of the blood off. Not that the sight of blood- including my own- bothered me anymore. Nor did the scent, the taste, not even the sound of a knife stabbing into my flesh. I was....apathetic, for lack of a better word. Disinterested, callous, stoic. Hardened. One thing, though, did bother me, aside from my other. The feel of caked blood on my skin. So I dragged myself into the bathroom, passing the calendar on the way. Today was......September 1st, the day before my birthday. And a Wednesday. Which means....school tomorrow.  
  
I sighed. I couldn't go, at least not in this condition. Yuugi would worry about me, and them his yami would get involved, and what happened tonight would be nothing in comparison to what I would get.  
  
Reaching the bathroom, I pulled myself into the shower, and turned the cold water on, letting out a small shriek as the frigid water hit me.  
  
'Kami, please let him not have heard me!' I thought frantically, listening for his angry footsteps, but they never came. I cautiously let out the breath that had caught in my throat, and carefully started washing the blood away, taking gruesome tally of my new injuries.  
  
The one on my chest, I saw that already.  
  
One on my throat, near the vein.  
  
Slash across my stomach.  
  
A broken rib.  
  
What feels like....whip marks across my back.  
  
Feels like he cut a nerve in my knee.  
  
A tendon slashed on my ankle.  
  
Each injury throbbed angrily as I thought about it, added it to the endless list in my head. Hikaris, for some unknown reason, seemed to heal a bit faster and more cleanly than normal people, something my yami tended to use to his advantage. I looked at my broken and scarred body, a knife seeming to stab at my heart.  
  
'Why?'  
  
'Why me?'  
  
'Why does he do it?'  
  
'Why don't I do anything about it?'  
  
The questions buzzed, like they always did, but this time was different. That last question had always had a definite answer.  
  
'I couldn't hurt another person. Ever.'  
  
'Even if it'll stop you from getting hurt? Killed?'  
  
'Yes.' And more recently 'Especially if it would stop me from getting hurt or killed.'  
  
I had become ugly. Physically, mentally, emotionally. The scars covered my body, but worse were the ones on my soul, for things that he had used my body for. I may not have been responisible for them, but I should have done something.  
  
'You hate yourself, don't you, Ryou?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'What do you fear?'  
  
'Nothing.'  
  
'What do you fear?'  
  
'Him.'  
  
'What do you fear?'  
  
'......Becoming him.'  
  
He made me sick. The things he did, the things he thought. His lack of remorse, of reasons. And always, always, the fact that he used me, looked so much like me. Once I asked him, since he could gain a physical form for himself, why use me?  
  
"It's not as much fun."  
  
I dragged myself out of the shower, only making it to the bathroom doorway before I collapsed into a blood loss-induced sleep.  
  
I woke up the next morning, rolled onto my stomach, and retched, clearing my lungs of blood that had built up. I sat up, remarkable clear-headed, and began bandaging myself, making a splint for my now-useless leg, so that I could at least stand up. I glanced at the clock. 2 PM. Good, this was about the time he slept everyday.  
  
'Why don't you do something about it?'  
  
'.....'  
  
'.....'  
  
The answer never came.  
  
I walked upstairs slowly, using the time to think about what was happening.  
  
'Am I.....'  
  
'Free. You're free, Ryou Bakura.'  
  
'Free of what?'  
  
'Him. Fear. Emotions. Everything you wish to be free of.'  
  
'Oh...'  
  
I reached my room and looked inside, seeing my yami stretched out, asleep on my bed.  
  
'He looks even more like me when he's asleep. Can I hurt my own reflection?'  
  
'He could.'  
  
I picked up his knife, holding it lightly in my hand, and walked up to the head of the bed, my shadow falling upon his face.  
  
The slight disturbance in the light and air woke him, his eyes seeming to creak open as if everything was in slow motion.  
  
Maybe it was.  
  
He saw me standing there and smirked, reaching for his knife. "Aibou....How nice to see you. Did you come to spend time with your partner?" his fingers didn't find the knife and he looked over in surprise.  
  
I held the knife in front of him, and watched his eyes widen, just as mine had the first time he had attacked me. A perfect mirror of who I had been, but now the mirror was shattered and broken. I took a deep breath, reveling in this moment, when I gave him what he had coming.  
  
I started with his left eye, gouging it out, just as he had done to Pegasus to gain the Sennen Eye. He screamed in the ripest terror, as his blood spurted on the walls, the ceiling, everywhere. I jerked my knife, opening up his cheek in the process.  
  
"Please....." he gasped weakly, the gash in his cheek opening and closing with every breath, his brown eyes-or eye, rather-, so like mine had been, filled to the brim with sweet, intoxicating terror.  
  
I pulled my knife away, before burying it in his stomach, slashing again and again, my knife ripping out entrails, blood spurting everywhere as he screamed again and again, before the pain became too much for him, his voice ending abruptly.  
  
I placed my knife on his chest, finding just the right spot, taking my time to fully revel in the joy I felt. I felt something on my arm and looked down to see him clutching me, a look of pleading on his face and tears pouring out of his single eye. "Please, don't do this...Listen to me, Ryou- "  
  
Those were his last words, all he could get out before I embedded the knife into his heart, the blood spray covering me from head to foot. Then I yanked the knife out and kept stabbing him, more viciously every time.  
  
Now I sit in the ever growing puddle of his blood, caked head to toe in it. It doesn't matter anymore, not in the least. I play with knife, then, out of a twisted sense of irony, lick the blood off, and laugh insanely.  
  
Suddenly, a pain as if a thousand flaming knives stabbing me in the chest comes out of nowhere. The pain fills me, consumes me, becomes my whole world as I feel my energy fading and my body going numb.  
  
'What is happening?!' I demand inside my mind  
  
'Ryou Bakura, you have killed your yami.'  
  
'And?! That doesn't explain what's going on!!!'  
  
'You have removed a dark from the balance of the universe. Therefore, to keeps the balance, we must remove a light.' The voice was matter-of-fact, not caring at all  
  
I laughed, for the last time, refusing to beg for my life, as my yami had. The last of my energy faded, and my body died, collapsing into the pool of my yami's blood. My Spirit still lives, though, joining the immense thing in the universe known only as 'Hate', convincing people to do the unthinkable, lash out, take revenge for anything that happened.Hope y'all enjoyed, just something I randomly got inspiration for! . If you review, I might do another angst fic, but as of now I think I pretty much suck, huh? Anywho, please review! Just click the little button 


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